


What He Needs

by commanderlurker (honeybee592)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:30:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9517016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honeybee592/pseuds/commanderlurker
Summary: The Iron Bull didn't cope well in the Fade. Vivienne offers him a way of dealing with his fear.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vass/gifts).



> Written for vass for the 2017 Chocolate Box exchange. 
> 
> I read your Bull/Vivienne ideas, my brain got thinking, and this is the result. Hope you enjoy :)

Vivienne had been watching Bull training with the Chargers. Watching _him_ , he knew. Not anyone else. Wonder what she wanted from him. Couldn’t be anything good. He didn’t acknowledge her though, just kept running his drills and yelling at his men and women. When they’d done good enough, he sent them packing. He waited for her to approach him as he picked up training swords and a few dummies but she didn’t move. Urg. Fine. He’d go to her then.

He didn’t get a chance to even ask if she’d enjoyed the show.

“I hear you’ve had both Cassandra and the Inquisitor beat you with a pole.” She shook her head slowly and clicked her tongue. “Next time you need to deal with your fears, come and find me.” It wasn’t an offer. It was an order.

Bull found himself nodding and firing off a “Yes ma’am” before he could stop himself. She may have had that tamassran act down no problem, but Bull didn’t appreciate her order; she could act the part but she wasn’t qunari, she didn’t _understand._ Then again, technically Bull wasn’t qunari either. Not any more.

Bull mulled over her order between training and drinking, during a trip out to the Hinterlands, even thought about it while balls deep in a very flexible soldier. There wouldn’t be another opportunity for him to be as scared as he had been at Adamant. No way he’d enter the Fade again, surely, but even if he did, he’d at least be mentally prepared. Rifts and demons didn’t faze him anymore. Whatever shit Corypheus lead the Inquisitor into next, perhaps. There just wasn’t much Bull wasn’t scared of these days. Except for the crushing unknown of what he’d do after this contract ended. Yeah yeah, he had the Chargers, sure, but he didn’t have the qun. And without the qun…

He made his way up to Vivienne’s alcove more out of curiosity than need. Best see what she had to offer while he was still clear in the head. He assumed sex was on the cards and if he was honest with himself, he was as turned on by that prospect as he was terrified. Still, his cock had never lead him wrong in the past, so up the stairs he went.

Vivienne lounged on her chaise, book poised in one elegant hand. The sun shone through the open balcony windows, bathing her in golden light. She looked like she was Divine already. When she saw him approach, she set her book down and smiled, warm and inviting. “Iron Bull, my dear. What brings you here?”

Bull fought the urge to fidget. He straightened his back instead. “Thought I’d take you up on your offer, ma’am.”

Vivienne beamed. She slid from the chaise like water, standing with one hand cocked on her hip. She crooked her finger at him. “Come with me.”

She led him through a door at the side of her alcove and along a passage. Good thing, too. A bit of exhibitionism every now and then was fun but doing it right above the great hall with a new partner who instilled equal measure of terror and admiration wasn’t really going to bring out Bull’s best performance.

Vivienne stopped in front of a door and waved her hand over it. Blue light shimmered and the door popped open. She stepped inside and Bull followed.

Shit! What a room! He didn’t even know Skyhold had rooms this nice outside of the Inquisitor’s chambers. Viv had really bagged herself a good one. Vivienne. Sorry, ma’am. A huge four poster bed had Bull’s mind immediately cranking out ideas. High windows let in sunlight. Another chaise like the one in her alcove and just as fancy. A desk in the corner was covered in herbs and potion bottles. And a bookshelf packed with books and scrolls and other little trinkets. Even had a balcony. She looked at him like she expected him to make the appropriate noises so he said, “Nice place.”

“I require only the best, my dear.” She took a seat on the chaise and indicated another opposite. “Please, make yourself comfortable. I suspect you have questions.”

“That’s usually my line,” Bull said as he sat down.

“Quite. But you’re the one who has come to me, yes?”

For the first time in a very long time Bull’s world shifted off balance. Being a step behind, holding broken threads… Not being in control was… not something he was used to. Or something he liked. It was something he feared. But maybe this was what he needed, losing control, just for a bit. That was usually his line, too. Weird how Vivienne had picked up on that.

“I don’t do anything without a watch word,” he said.

Vivienne nodded once. “Of course.” She inclined her head, indicating that he could continue.

“Katoh. That’s the word.”

“Katoh. Anything else?”

Bull’s mind went blank. He was up for a lot most of the time but he did have his limits. Being here, with this woman, that was close. “If I use it, I mean it.”

Vivienne smiled soft and sweet, genuine--an unfamiliar look on her. “I don’t know what you’re expecting me to do to you, dear Bull, but believe me when I say that you have nothing to fear from me. I respect who you are and where you’ve come from. Trust me and I shall trust you.”

While Bull mulled that over, Vivienne stood and walked to a chest behind the chaise. She bent over, giving Bull a good view and something new to think about. When she turned, she held two coils of red rope. Bull’s mouth went dry and he fought the “K--” back down his throat. Not that he didn’t like being tied up, but Vivienne wasn’t the right person for this, no matter how similar she was to the tamassrans. She handed him the rope and--shit, this was good stuff. Not too thick, but not thin and stringy. Expertly woven strands twisted together and just the right kind of rough. The kind that would hold knots, not slip, bite the skin and leave marks. Yeah, maybe he was warming up to the idea.

“Will here work for you?” Vivienne asked.

Bull looked up to find her naked. Completely fucking naked, standing in the centre of a thick rug. She smirked at him. “Uh…”

She waved her arm around. “Enough room for you to work? And how is your ankle? I can stand on a chest should that be easier for you.”

Slowly the curtains parted in Bull’s mind to reveal Vivienne’s intent. His admiration for her grew, along with his… well. He grinned and stepped forward, the rope still in his hands. “Yeah, yeah this’ll work fine. This’ll be… yeah.” He raked his gaze down the length of her body and back up again, mouth watering.

“None of that, now. My state of undress is purely practical.” The tease in her voice indicated that she wasn’t completely serious but Bull wasn’t about to test that.

“Should I…” Bull flicked at his pants with his thumb.

“As hideous as those trousers are, they are to remain on. I will find you something more suitable for next time. You may remove your boots if doing so will not place undue strain on your joints. Your harness, too.”

Bull nodded, unsure what to make of her expecting a repeat performance when she hadn’t experienced what he had to offer yet. She really had that much faith in him? Shit, he’d underestimated her then. He sat on the chaise, setting the rope next to him and eased his boots off, wiggling his toes and glad that he’d bathed before coming here. He took off his harness, too, and gave his shoulder a stretch. Then he uncoiled one length of rope, letting it fall to the floor. He ran it through his hands, wringing out the kinks and getting a feel for how the rope reacted. Nice. Real nice. A little rough against his palms. Just how he liked it. This was some high quality shit. Not that he expected any less from Vivienne. He made his way to the other end of the rope, then folded it in half, gripping the mid-point in his fist.

“So…” he started.

“I require your silence, lest you need to speak your watch word. I will tell you if the rope pinches or is otherwise unnecessarily uncomfortable. Tie me how you will but know that I have not done this for a good many years. Do not wander with those hands of yours. Your eye is free to take what it can.”

Bull nodded as he willed his semi down. Good thing he kept his pants on, then. Okay, what to tie? Vivienne had given Bull free reign within her strict conditions. She’d also given him an opportunity and he wasn’t about to throw it away. He held the rope but she called the shots. Nothing too complicated then, since he couldn’t ask her to hold ends out the way or knots in place. Chest harness. That required getting up close and personal. He avoided her gaze as he folded the rope in half again, then settled a loop over her head and around the base of her neck. Vivienne sensed what he intended and lifted her arms up. He wound both ends over the dip in her collarbone and weaved them back and forth under her armpits, around her back and over her shoulders. His arm brushed her tit--breast--once and he feared reprisal but none came. Still, he made sure not to let it happen again, even as he bound her breasts. This sort of rope work was nice and simple. An easy way to settle the mind. No knots, just weaving, crosshatches, like a mat. A simple knot in the middle of her back tied off the piece.

He stood back and admired his work. The rich red of the rope complimented the depth of Vivienne’s skin so well that her choice couldn’t’ve been a coincidence. Her nipples peeked out between the weave, tight, gorgeous. Later, he’d peel the rope away and run his finger along the indentations. _Bump bump bump_.  He twirled his finger to get her to turn but she just tilted her head and gave an innocuous smile. He circled her then, tweaking here and there until he was happy. Since he stood at her back, he took the chance to really appreciate that ass. So tight you could bounce a copper off it. Not that Viv would be into that kind of thing. Probably.

The second coil was still on the chaise. Looked to be the same length as the first. Tying her arms would be nice. Yeah, hands behind her back, put a little strain on them, a dragonfly knot. Shit, that’d be hot. But then, having her sit so he could tie her legs, calf to thigh, open her up… No, that didn’t really fit the tone. If he had more rope then he’d tie each leg with a run of knots going up the back, like stockings. He’d ask if she had any more if he could, but didn’t want to go prying into that chest in case it was out of bounds. Anyway, he figured that even if she had more, she’d given him as much as she wanted to. He’d have to make do.

Waist, then. Saying goodbye to Vivienne’s ass for the moment, Bull retrieved the rope and ran it out just as he had the first, and found the centre. He eased himself to his knees, pleased with how plush the rug was. He half expected Vivienne to offer to stand on higher ground again but she remained quiet. She wasn’t as condescending as people made out. Only to idiots and Bull was no idiot who needed to be reminded to take care of himself. Stitches might disagree, but Vivienne seemed to know Bull’s limits as well as he did.

Tying the waist took time and patience, more than the simple weave over her chest. When doing this back home for day to day wear, people tended to take a shortcut that allowed the rope to be loosened and tightened without having to untie the whole lot. Some would get a tamassran to tie it initially, then loosen it themselves at the end of the day, ready to be worn again the next. Bull couldn’t quite picture Vivienne strutting through Skyhold in nothing but two lengths of rope so he opted for the complicated version. Of course, back home they’d wear loose trousers underneath. They. Not we. He set to work and tried not to think about that.

He made the knots around the back no problem but the knots at the front were a pain in the ass to get right. He fumbled the first one and bit back a grunt as he untied it and tried again. Hadn’t done this in too long. Bondage, sure, a bit of slap and tickle with his partner’s arms tied behind their back. But a real rope session? Merc life didn’t lend well to time spent on elaborate, time consuming bondage.

This knot was still all wonky so he knelt back and stretched. The distance provided the perspective he needed and he grinned at his solution. She’d said not to let his hands wander but she said nothing about his teeth. He leant back in and tied the knot how he wanted, then he held it firmly in both hands and tugged the end with his teeth. His nose caught a warm, luxurious musk as he moved onto the second knot. Three, four knots, rope weaved between each one. Five, six. Almost done. With the complicated bit anyway.

A hand on his head caught him by surprise. He looked up to see Vivienne smiling down at him. She shifted her hand closer to his horn. He closed his eye and leant into the touch. He’d forgotten all about her. Forgotten everything but the rope and tug and play at his fingertips. When he opened his eye, she still smiled at him. She looked bemused, like she’d been watching him this whole time and had known that he’d slipped away. He warred between being annoyed that she’d pulled him back and pleased that she had. He had to remain aware, remember where he was and who he was with. Then she dragged her nails down the base of his horn to behind his ear and he floated away again. The rumble rolled up his throat and escaped. Vivienne removed her hand. Shame flooded through Bull all hot, and then more shame for feeling so ashamed in the first place. He swallowed and fixed his attention on the last of the rope. Just a little more weaving, in and out, over and under, and a few adjustments to make sure the rope sat snugly over Vivienne’s waist and hips.

That musky scent hit him again and he realised it was her. His face was right in front of her crotch. The bottom of his work brushed the top of her neatly trimmed hair. A bolt of lust shot straight from his cock to his tongue, out and away again, gone before he could register the feeling. Her pleasure wasn’t Bull’s priority. Neither was his pleasure. They both knew this.

She knew, somehow, how qunari thought, what qunari needed, even ones who weren’t in the qun anymore. And more to the point, she’d read Bull like a book. By handing him the rope she’d given him _exactly_ what _he_ needed. Had he been obvious or was he really that easy to read? Didn’t matter. She’d let him back in, just for a while. For a few hours he got to be himself again. His past self. Hissrad. A part of him would always be Hissrad, a keeper of secrets, a… liar. That was just who he was. But he was also the Iron Bull. A weapon. A name he chose for himself. A reminder about what he was to the qun.

But he was free of the qun now. Had been for months, close to a year, in fact.

“Bull, my dear?” Vivienne hooked her finger under Bull’s chin and tilted his head up. She smiled down at him. “You’ve made me look more gorgeous than usual. You are a talented, intelligent man, but I’m sure you already know that.”

Iron Bull. No longer a thing, but a someone.


End file.
